Faitrix
by Old Emerald Eye
Summary: Faith's sister-of-sorts keeps disappearing on her. There's also the Matrix, whatever that is.
1. Chapter 1

She's twelve the first time Trinity disappears. She can't remember a time when Trinity wasn't around, but she survives and Trinity shows up a week later.

She leaves again, for longer. Faith wakes one morning, and she's gone. There's a note on the table and food in the fridge and what's left of her Trig homework completed in her schoolbag. (Trinity's cool like that.)

And so it goes, with Trinity sneaking out in the middle of the night, and once, just once, sneaking in with a guy whose voice she doesn't recognize. She stays awake, but they do nothing but talk and she drifts off wondering where she's heard the name Morpheus before.

She's sixteen the first time she manages to follow her, watching from the window, climbing down the fire-escape, trailing two blocks behind until she arrives at a dead end. A deserted dead end. She backtracks, looks for a ladder,a concealed door, anything, but there's nothing to explain Trin's disappearing act. Just a phone box with the phone hanging for its hook near the alley entrance. She's gone more than a month, after that, her longest ever, and Faith can't help feeling that it's her fault, that Trin somehow knows. She doesn't try following her again.

(Her trackers don't work either, no matter how many she makes and steals and plants in Trinity's clothes.)

Which is probably the reason Trinity sits her down one day, after throuaghly debugging the house and smuggling sunglasses guy in through the back window, and tells her how her world is a lie.

She may be good, but Trinity is better, so much better.

Trinity's a superhero. Faith's always wanted to be like her.

So she takes the red pill.


	2. Chapter 2

Waking up sucks.

Not that being eaten by her chair was a walk in the park, but on a scale of waking up in the morning on a Saturday that's the beginning of a long weekend to, well, this, this takes the cake. If the cake was made of slugs. Or that stuff Trinity swear will swear the sky blue is porridge but really, really isn't.

Seriously, even the hangover Faith had after sneaking some of Trinity's stash – if it wasn't paint-stripper, but why would Trin keep that under her bed, anyway – hurt less than what it takes to open her eyes. Closing them again feels like sandpaper, but nothing is in focus. Blinking (it still counts as a blink, even if it takes more than a minute to force her eyes back open) doesn't help, doesn't change anything, only makes it worse, because as Faith breathes in there's a snake, or something, stuck in her throat, not just her throat, she can feel it and it's inside her and she can't breathe can't breathe and her arms are wet noodles for all the good they do getting it out and -

The pink breaks at more or less the same time she gets her fingers around it and yanks it out, and it is an it (not that snakes aren't it's as well), some kind of collection of tubes, made up of a mixture of metal and plastic and goo that she really doesn't want to see, even if she could get whoever is in charge of the spotlight to turn it off.

She's in a pod. And she was really, truly right about not wanting to see the goo. It's pink and red and an off white all at the same time. She's covered in the stuff. It's also kind warm, which is a good thing because she isn't wearing much else, apart from the freaky needles in her arms. And her legs. And, while she's looking in that direction, pretty much everywhere.

See Faith, this is why we don't take pills from strangers, even if Trinity says they're alright. You get sold to wacko alien scientists.

...Trinity. How could she – how did they make her lie like that? Trinity doesn't lie. Not to her, anyway. Never to Faith. She keeps Faith safe. Always, no matter what. Had they threatened her? Hurt her? Was it drugs? Did they do this to her? Because if they have, she is going to _hunt them down_.

Just as soon as she gets out of here. Wherever here is.

Her eyes have pretty much adjusted to the light in this place, so when she looks up from her arm (so long as she doesn't think of them as needles, it's kind of cool. Prettier than the Borg, anyway, and it it's slightly distracting from the whole Trinity – Trinity – Trinity thing going on inside her head) she can make out, if she squints , not exactly the opposite wall, because there isn't one, just darkness and mist, but there is a cylinder, more than one, with red spots, like a weird Christmas tree from a store that was fresh out of green. There's more than one, all covered in rows and rows of red bulbs.

...The thing she's in is red.

Behind her the wall is curved, made up of what looks like metal, or maybe some sort of shiny stone. It's not really the sort of thing she's normally interested in, but enough to know that she's on a cylinder of her own.

It's too dark to make out the colour, but it's lighter than black. The little light there is that she's using to see with comes from the red things. She's in one of them, and trying really hard not to think too hard about it. There's one next to her. More a coffin than a bulb, or like one of those stasis chambers from Halo. Almost exactly like them, actually. There's a body floating in it, and another in the pod on her left. More above and so many below her, rows on rows on rows of them, that she has to pull back inside her pod for fear that she'll fall headlong into the abyss, like one of those poems she's supposed to learn to dissect instead of hacking the school's system.

It's like something out of a nightmare. Not that she's ever had nightmares like this, but she sure as hell will now.

No way out, up or down. And that lightning- electricity? - coming her way does not look like it's going to be fun. At all. Even less fun than the time she stuck her finger in an electrical socket. Or, you know, this flying robot spider thing that's trying to give her a heart-attack by dropping out of thin air.

Or rip her apart, or jab her with even more needles or, worse, make her go back into her pod. Make her lie down and watch as the goo crawls up her and over her face until she can't breathe, can't see, can't -

Deep breaths.

Okay-doke. She's now in a stare down with a flying robot. Totally a dream, right? Right?

Mental note – she doesn't like being choked. She doesn't like the touch of metal, doesn't like it at her throat or in her arms, she doesn't like it not at all, she doesn't she doesn't she doesn't.

How about a not so mental note. How about flat out screaming? The back of her head is unscrewing, puling out her brains. Her skin is being pulled away from her skull, and now her bone -

It lets go. She flops down into the goo like a sack of jell-o.

And then she's falling, left, right, left, left so fast she's getting dizzy enough to throw up, and she  
would if she had the time, but right now she's a bit busy doing a loop - the - fricking - loop.

...She's still falling. How long is this going to -

And she slams into something hard.

After a moment, Faith sinks. Water. It's water. It still hurts.

...It's liquid, anyway, with a possible water content.

Well, at least she isn't a splatter, not that it really matters, cause even floating is hard right now, and Faith really doesn't want to go wherever the water's taking her. It's probably a waterfall. That'd be bad.

Going under is also bad, but she can't stop herself. It's all she can do to stop herself breathing in the water.

She's clawing her way to the surface again when someone decide it's time to start a disco.

The disco turns out to be a searchlight. Aimed right at her face. What is it with this place and blinding her?

She's going under again when suddenly she's being lifted. She'd fight – because really, she's just finished dealing with the last frakking robot, what does a girl have to do to get a break around here – but that requires energy which she's fresh out of. Plus there's the air.

Faith likes the air. It's nice and cool and good for things like breathing. She really, really likes breathing right now.

Are they turning the light down? It's going all fuzzy. Like dice.

Nice of them, she could do with a nap... or two... or maybe just if she shuts her eyes for a second...

* * *

Faith can hear voices. Or waves. Voices are waves. Waves of sound. Sound waves.

Sound. Thing. Sound is a thing. It goes with other things like … light.

Light? Should she open her eyes? Too bright. Don't go towards the light. Who said that? She's too tired for this, too tired to think, too tired to ...

* * *

Faith wakes, and stays very, very still.

It was a dream.

It's a dream it's a dream it's a dream.

She opens her eyes.

Pillow. Normal, slightly thin pillow that isn't in any way gooey or attached to any needles.

Not exactly the stuff of nightmares. On the other hand, unfamiliar pillow. Which means she's not in her bed. Which means … once she finds Trinity's friends, Faith's going to kill them. That is one hell of a trip to send a girl on.

She stands and looks around. Not bad, as far as random rooms go, a bit drab and gray, but it's not like she hasn't -

She hits the bed so hard she ends up sitting on it. She would've hit the wall, but the bed was in the way.

There's something – someone? - in the door. Or behind it. Is it see-through? What is that? No, it's a someone. It's a who. Who is that? Is she looking at an alien? Is she still tripping? What did they give her?

It doesn't move, just keep staring at her. She doesn't dare to take her eyes off it.

There's noting here that she can use. Only the sheets, maybe, but that'd take time. And involve, you know, movement. Which she's trying to avoid.

It still hasn't moved. Is this one of those fear things, like in the National Geographic? Cause if it is, it's just as scared of her as she is of it.

...That isn't very comforting, come to think of it. But maybe it'll back away if she approaches?

Faith moves her arm. It does too. Towards her. So much for the fear thing.

Okay, it's not trying to eat her, that's good, even if it isn't running away. It just mean she's going to have to get really close if she wants to get out of the room.

She can do this. She can do this, right?

The closer she gets, the slower she moves. It does the same, until, with their hands inches apart, they could easily be overtaken by energetic snails. She forces herself to keep moving, to reach across that final distance.

And she touches cold metal.

It's a robot? Again? What is it – no. No, wait. That's not it.

Door. She's touching a door.

Which means that it's – that she -

Oh hell no.

"Trinity!"

It's not Trinity who enters. It's sunglasses guy. Morpheus.

She doesn't jump back when he comes in. She doesn't.

"Faith. It's nice to see you awake."

Normally, she'd some some or other quip handy about looking good all the time, but she's not up for it right this instant.

"My hair?"

Damn, she sounds like a little kid. But it's her hair. She's allowed to be a bit – more than a bit – worried about the fact that it's gone. Her head feels weird. Too light. And cold. And it looks funny.

"It'll grow."

Well, duh.

"It does that."

Way to sound intelligent.

Actually, no, she doesn't need to sound intelligent. This dude has just kidnapped her, for all she knows. Sounding stupid may be a good idea. If she hadn't been trying so hard to sound clever when they'd met.

Which doesn't explain why is she so calm.

Think, Faith, think – not about drugs, had more than enough of those – how about -

"Where -"

That's not a bad question, but how should she finish that? There's so many options to chose from.  
Where am I? Is this place? Or the bathroom? She could really do with a shower right now. Or food.

"Are you? You're in the real world."

"What?"

Okay, is this dude insane? He hadn't sounded insane when she met him.

"More important than what, is when."

Yup, totally insane.

She repeats the word anyway.

"You think it's the year 1999, but it's more like 2199. I can't tell you exactly what year it is, because I honestly - "

Insane and not really much to listen to. He was much better when he was talking about pills. Or the weather. He hasn't got to that yet. Is there snow? Cause it is really – okay, not cold, but a few extra blankets wouldn't go amiss, and who dressed her anyway? Grey is so not her color. Not his either. Makes him look weird.

She's not even going to start on how it makes her look, because, honestly, she looks like someone's dragged her out of a morgue and hit her with lightning.

He's staring at her from across the room.

What did she miss? And what happened to his sunglasses? Faith had liked those sunglasses.

"Perhaps you would prefer to rest?"

That's the last thing on her mind. Rest is for wimps, and she's been out of it for how long again?

"Nah, I'm good. Lead on, Mac Doodle."

He leads. Faith follows, and finds herself reluctantly interested, for all they look like they're in a bunker without the concrete.

"This is my ship, the Nebuchadnezzar."

Babylonian, got it.

"...And hack into the Matrix."

Okay, she has got to stop letting her mind wander. Seems he does have something interesting to talk about, when Faith isn't paying attention.

"Most of my crew, you've already met."

Faith's paying attention ( no, really) to Morpheus and his introductions, but right now all he's doing sounds like the world's best impression of a foghorn, maybe one of those musical ones, because the crew member in the welding mask is – she's lifting the mask and it's -

"Trinity!"

And Faith doesn't care that Trinity's covered in grease, or that her hair's gone, or that they're both dressed like they've just escaped from a rundown mental institution, that her ribs feel like they're about to break or even that Morpheus is still talking, because she has her sister, and right now Faith could face down a hundred flying spider robots, hair or no hair.

"Someone's been waiting for you to wake up."

Does Morpheus sound amused? He has actual, real, expressible feelings? Maybe he isn't the robot he likes to pretend he is.

Faith allows herself to be smothered. Trinity knows not to push it. Correction, she normally knows not to push it. It's nice though. She pulls back, eventually, after a lot of throat clearing that she ignores on sheer principal, and looks her straight in the eye to give her statement just the right amount of emotional impact because, believe it or not, she is damn emotional right now.

"Admit it. The only reason you waited to tell me was so you had time to grow your hair back."


End file.
